


The Tale of Little Ember

by LazuliAlekto



Series: Pyreburner [1]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Childhood Friends, Defying Fate, Friends to Lovers, Friendship/Love, M/M, Sacrifice, Two souls entwined
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-04
Updated: 2018-06-04
Packaged: 2019-05-18 04:07:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,650
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14845415
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LazuliAlekto/pseuds/LazuliAlekto
Summary: As with most stories, there is a beginning, a middle and an end.Little Ember’s tale had several beginnings, a convoluted middle and endings that were both happy and sad.





	The Tale of Little Ember

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this in a few hours, it all just poured out and I couldn't stop it. I hope I've caught any errors, no doubt a few have slipped through however.  
> Alternate title: The Flame and the Star.

The Tale of Little Ember

 

  As with most stories, there is a beginning, a middle and an end.

  Little Ember’s tale had several beginnings, a convoluted middle and endings that were both happy and sad.

 The first beginning was before Little Ember had even been brought into existence.  It began with the Infernian gifting his flames to humankind, watching them utilise it to create rather than destroy.  It fascinated Ifrit.  And it allowed Shiva to see a different side to the Pyreburner.  The ice around her heart melted.

  Ifrit watched in wonder as Bahamut created acolytes for himself, messengers, servants, companions.  He began to make his own.  He called them his little flames, all created in his image, yet all with their own idiosyncrasies.  Some he gave names, like his little Inferno that burned so bright, and little Wildfire who burned fiercely yet burned out.  When he made Little Ember, Shiva stood beside him as he extracted part of his essence, tempering the little flame as a sword is tempered by both ice and fire.  Little Ember came from the part of Ifrit that burned brightest, near the blue white centre of the flame, tinged green.  When the tiny flame opened his eyes, they burned like green fire.  Ifrit chuckled as he stroked the little flame’s horns gently.  All the other little flames had eyes like his, bright and golden.

  “I shall call you Little Ember,” Ifrit murmured, holding the flame in the palm of his hand.  The newly named flame preened, nuzzling against Ifrit’s fingers.

  Shiva had stroked his hair, smiling softly as the new little flame peered about himself, eager to learn, thirsting for knowledge.

  “This little one shall help to bring you peace,” she intoned to the Infernian.

  Ifrit did not understand his lover’s words.

  “I am at peace,” he informed her.

  Shiva smiled at Ifrit sadly, shaking her head.  “It shall not always be so, my love.”  She refused to elaborate further, saying only “keep this little one close, and when it is time, set him free.”

  Centuries passed, and Little Ember stayed at the Infernian’s side.  He travelled to Eos with his master, soaking up knowledge like a sponge, continually asking questions of the Pyreburner, green eyes bright as he listened to everything intently.

  Ifrit was happy.

  Little Ember was happy.

  When Ifrit took Little Ember to a meeting of the Astrals he met one of Bahamut’s newest acolytes, one called Star, a miniature version of the Draconian with hair dark as the night sky, eyes as blue as the oceans.  Little Ember extended his hand in friendship to the Little Star, as his master had taught him was proper.  The Draconian’s acolyte grabbed his hand and enfolded it between his own, smiling brightly.  Ember felt his heart expand in his chest and grinned back.

  They explored together while their masters spoke in low tones, making their way to a place where they could observe the skies above.

  “See, that’s what my master named me for, stars,” Little Star explained pointing at the tiny pinpoints of light in the heavens.

  Ember knew of stars, “each star is a fire in the sky, so my master told me,” he said, smiling at Star beside him, their hands clasped tightly.

  “Then that means I need you to burn, to shine so bright,” Star responded bestowing a gentle smile on Ember.

  “Indeed,” Ember replied, rather taken with the idea.  “I shall always help you shine.”

  Thus began a friendship that transcended time and space.

  The Infernian took Ember with him as he travelled Eos, spending time with men who called their empire Solheim.  Ember wandered away to the east while his master instructed the men how to create graceful buildings in which they could live.  As Ember wandered, he met a family who had devoted themselves to a noble in the far east, helping him, guiding him, giving the man their knowledge.  Ember sat in the hearth, gazing up at the elder and pondering the way the man had given his knowledge to the other man so willingly, just like the Pyreburner had given his wealth of fire to humans.  He liked this man and his family very much.  Whenever Ifrit took him down to Eos, Ember would head to see what the family had been doing, each succeeding elder giving his accumulated knowledge and wisdom to the noble’s family elder.  They always welcomed Little Ember, happy to see him settle in the hearth.  Ember was touched as the family began to name their children with words that evoked fire.  It made him feel part of them.

  When Ifrit would call him home, Ember would chatter to his master about how he liked the family and how he thought that they were like the Infernian.  It amused Ifrit greatly and he would stroke Ember’s horns as he smiled and listened to what his little flame had to say.

  Humankind, as all children are wont to do, began to learn on their own.  Those in Solheim became arrogant and decided they didn’t need Ifrit’s guidance.  At first the Infernian was amused by their temerity.  At a meeting with Bahamut he scoffed as he told the other Astrals of how they were beginning to ignore him, less were worshiping him.

  Star and Ember listened quietly, hands laced together, glancing at each other in worry as Bahamut shook his head sadly.

  “It will not end there, Infernian.”

  Ifrit did not listen.  He was sure the humans would realise their folly and return to their worship.

  They did not.

  Ifrit raged and Ember was torn from his friend Star and from the family on Eos that he had come to love so much.

  It was the first ending that Ember had encountered.

  Ifrit refused to meet with the other Astrals, even pushing Shiva away from him in spite.  He waged war on both Eos and upon his brethren.  One Astral against five could only end one way.  Ifrit was imprisoned and Ember went with him, trying to soothe the fire of the Infernian’s anger.

  Century upon century passed with Ember at his master’s feet.

  Life went on.  Eos spun in the heavens.  Solheim splintered into smaller Kingdoms.

  The Accursed was born, a new beginning that heralded another ending.  The Scourge spread over Eos.  And the man who would be known as the Accursed became a healer, absorbing the Scourge into himself.

  Ifrit felt the shift in the air when the Accursed was denied his ascendance.  The Infernian smiled, a sickly evil smile that Ember shrunk from.

  When the Accursed came to Ifrit, Ember begged him to send him away, but Ifrit didn’t listen, too angered and seeking revenge to heed the flame’s warning.  Sadness settled in Ember’s heart as Ifrit slowly succumbed to the Scourge that flowed through the Accursed’s veins.  Humans died quickly from the scourge, their life snuffing out sometimes in a matter of days.  Ifrit was a different matter.  It took two thousand years before the madness took him over.

  In a moment of lucidity, he caressed Ember’s horns like he had always done, praising him for his loyalty.

  “You must leave me, my Little Ember, I would not see you sicken and burn out.  Seek the family that you loved so dearly, join them, live a life of humanity while you can, as you have dreamed of doing.”

  “I do not want to leave you, my Liege, I love you,” Ember wailed, wrapping his arms around the legs of the Infernian.

  Ifrit pulled Ember into his lap, stroking the face so like his own, “you must, I command you to.  Shiva told me you would bring me peace, and you have, my little flame, spark of my soul.  You have never waivered.”

  Little Ember sobbed, clinging to his master, “please, I want to help you.”

  “Oh, Little Ember, you have, but allow me this while I can still contain this illness, let me give you something you have longed for.  You must leave me,” Ifrit insisted, ichor bleeding from his eyes.  “I feel the Scourge taking me over, I would not want you to see me consumed by it.”

  The last thing Ember saw of his creator was black tears tracking down his cheeks.

  Ember floated in the ether, borne on it to the birthing bed of the family he’d loved, his soul blending with the babe’s as he screamed in his mother’s arms.  The baby quieted as Ember wound himself through the baby’s soul, soothing him.

  The mother glanced up at the father, smiling as she stroked the baby’s plump cheeks, amused by the sudden silence.

  They chose a name for the babe, one that spoke of fire, just as almost all their ancestors had.

  Thus, Ignis Scientia was born.

  Another new beginning for Little Ember, beloved of Ifrit. 

  Ember instilled his love of learning in Ignis, the baby continually curious as his bright green eyes, just like Ember’s, took in everything around him.  Ignis was fascinated by fire, his parents more than a little concerned when Ignis would crawl towards the hearth.  They took him to the Citadel, to meet the man they had pledged their family to.  Ignis sat in his father’s lap, blinking in fascination as he watched the Glaive practising their elemental magic, cooing when they held fire in their palms, the flames dancing, reflected in his green eyes.

  The Scientias rejoiced with the rest of Lucis when the King announced the birth of his son.

  Little Ignis met Noctis when he was six, the tiny Prince a shy boy with midnight hair, bright blue eyes alive with mischief.  He held his hand out, practising his court manners.  Noctis grasped his hand and covered it with the other, his eyes crinkling with joy at having a friend to play with.

  Ignis’ heart swelled as they smiled at each other.

  Little Ember rejoiced.

  He had found Star.  The loneliness in his soul filled at last.

  Ignis learned, Ignis grew.

  Side by side with the Prince.

  The King came into Noctis’ rooms one day to find Ignis, hand held out as Noctis gaped at him, mouth open.  In Ignis’ palm a small flame danced.  Ignis quenched the flame when he spied the King.

  King Regis got down on his knees beside the two boys, stroking their hair, “how long have you been able to do that, Ignis?”

  “Always, your Majesty,” Ignis whispered, a little confused as to why he wasn’t in trouble.

  “Would you like to learn to do more, one day become Noct’s Crownsguard?”

  Ignis’ face broke into a wide smile, Noct bouncing beside him.

  “I would!  Very much,” Ignis shouted in his excitement.

  “Very well then, once you are old enough, you can begin your training.  Until then, you can learn to be Noct’s chamberlain, alongside your Uncle.  Would you like that too, Ignis?”

  Ignis nodded and deep in his soul Little Ember rejoiced.  He had someone to care for again.

  The day Ignis was inducted into the training program for the Crownsguard at fifteen, Noct presented him with a little box that he had wrapped himself, handing it to Ignis with a shy proud smile.  Ignis grinned at the teenage Prince, hugging him in thanks.  He opened the box to find a fine silver chain, a carved skull hanging from it.

  “It shows that you’re my Crownsguard, Speccy,” Noct said quietly.

  Ignis pushed his glasses up his nose, “and I will be, always.”

  Noct took hold of the chain and fastened it about Ignis’ neck, flushing a little when he stepped back.  Ignis hugged his friend again, pressing a quick kiss to Noct’s cheek.  When he pulled back, they were both blushing furiously and averting their gazes.

  The next few years were intense for several reasons.

  Ignis applied himself to all his studies.  His training for the Crownsguard was tiring, ye thoroughly satisfying.  He shot up and his body changed, gaining muscle.  He discovered an aptitude for acrobatics and used it when he sparred, flipping and twisting through the air, twin blades in his fists.  He learned elemancy, fire coming to him so easily that some were jealous of his aptitude.  Electricity was harder, but he learned.  Ice came to him grudgingly, feeling wrong somehow, until he realised that ice burned just as fire did.

  His relationship with Noctis went through changes as well.  They fought as the Prince came to terms with his role, Ignis getting frustrated as he couldn’t seem to help.  He became jealous of the friendship that had developed between Noct and a blonde boy from his school.  It confused him.  Until he realised that what he felt for Noct was far from brotherly.

  Ember inside his soul soothed him when Ignis felt anger, reassuring him that Ignis held a unique place in Noct’s heart.  He urged Ignis to take Noct stargazing.  The pair lay on the damp grass, staring up at the inky skies, pointing out constellations.  Noct laced his fingers with Ignis’.  Ember felt Ignis’ heart thumping in his chest.

  And then things settled.

  The day Ignis joined the Crownsguard as a full member, Noct pulled him into a kiss that took Ignis’ breath away.  Suddenly nothing else mattered.

  Until the day King Regis announced that Noct was to marry Lunafreya and cement the treaty between Lucis and Niflheim. 

  Ember looked through Ignis’ eyes at his Star and his heart broke.

  The pair whispered together in Noct’s bed, making promises to each other.  Noct promised he would always love Ignis.  Ignis promised he would always be by Noct’s side.  It had to be enough.

  Ember roiled inside Ignis’ soul when the self-confessed ‘man of no consequence’ met them at Galdin Quay.  He knew this man, he hated this man.  Ignis bristled at the man’s words, unaccountably angry at every word that fell from the man’s lips.  The more they encountered him, the deeper his distrust grew.

  Little Ember, deep within the soul of Ignis, searched the threads of fate, seeking a way to protect his Star.

  Ignis stood at the Altar of the Tidemother, anger coursing through his veins, Ravus mourning beside the body of his sister.  ‘Take the ring,’ whispered through his mind.  ‘Go with him, learn what you can of him, use it against him.’

  Ember burned bright, the desire for revenge thrumming through him and instilling Ignis with the need to hurt Ardyn.  Ignis looked down at Noct, prone upon the Altar.  His heart clenched, the ring in his fist.  He nodded at Ardyn and was whisked away to Zegnautus Keep.

  Ember surged to the surface as the Accursed confessed his true identity to Ignis.  He cared not for the man’s excuses.  He only cared for his Star.

  Ignis brandished the Ring of the Lucii at the Accursed, the man hissing as he stepped towards Ignis.

  ‘Put it on, I will guide you,’ Ember urged Ignis.

  Ember fought the Accursed, his fire entwining through Ignis’ veins, melding with the power of the ring.  He used Ignis’ body to twist and spin, fire dancing along his blades.  He brought the Accursed to his knees, revelling in the way the man staggered and dissipated, confused that someone not born to the power of the Lucii could wield the ring.  He hadn’t sensed Ember in control. 

  Ignis burned, his sight stolen, his breath rasping.

  Ember felt regret.

  But he had hurt the Accursed.

  Noctis healed Ignis, cradling in his arms, calling out to the crystal as he held Ignis.

  Ember sobbed inside Ignis, watching his Star enter the crystal, willingly, not grudgingly like he had in other visions of the future.  Ember knew this was the only way.

  Ten years Ignis wandered the lands of Lucis, learning what he could of the Accursed, finding a way he could keep Noctis alive once he returned.  Ember directed him to the tomb of Ardyn’s brother.  Ignis frowned as he searched the tomb, the Prince of Tenebrae at his side.

  “He must be healed, it is the only way,” Ignis whispered to Ravus, brother of the Oracle.  “Her blood is your blood, Ravus.”

  Ignis reached into Noctis’ armiger, pulling the Trident that had been Ravus’ sister’s and handed it to him.  Ember sighed in resignation.  The Prophecy that called for Noct’s sacrifice stated that it must be Caelum blood that was spilled.  That the King must give all for his people and ascend to end the Scourge.

  Ardyn was the King that never was.  He was Caelum as much as Noctis was.

  The Ghost of Somnus laced his hand with the Ghost of the original Oracle, Ravus’ forebear. 

  The Ghost of the Oracle bent her head and clasped Ravus’ head in her hands, pressing her forehead to that of the Prince, imparting her power to him as Ravus accepted the Trident from Ignis.  Golden light engulfed Ravus, Ignis shielding his eyes.

  When Noctis returned from his slumber inside the crystal, Ember felt it.  His Star was home.

  They fought their way to the Citadel, slaying daemons, Ember seeking for the Accursed.

  The Accursed mocked them from the steps, taunting them, revealing Ifrit on a fiery throne, telling them that Ifrit hated humanity.  Ember knew that was a lie.  The Infernian had loved humans once.  He had given his Ember to humans to care for.  He still held love in his heart.  He could see the invisible chains that held him in Ardyn’s thrall. 

  Ember cried out to Ifrit, the Infernian’s gaze finding Ignis.  He saw the green eyes of the flame he had loved.

  Time stood still.

  “Little Ember, have you come to bring me peace at last?”

  “Oh, my Liege, what has he done to you?” Ember mourned.

  “He has chained me to him, I cannot win free, I am too weak.  Kill me, Little Ember, set my soul free,” the Infernian implored him, his golden eyes weeping black tears.

  Little Ember bowed his head, “I will do this last thing for you.”

  The fight was furious, yet Ignis was not harmed, Ifrit’s flames gliding over his flesh, not burning him.

  Shiva descended, her eyes seeking Ember inside Ignis, a small smile of thanks on her lips as she cradled Ifrit’s face in her hands.  She pressed a kiss to the Pyreburner’s lips and he shattered to pieces, whispering his thanks to his flame.

  Ember felt Ifrit’s soul win free of the chains that had bound him, Ignis breathing heavily as they ascended the steps.  Ravus met them and handed Noct’s father’s sword to the King.  They all entered together.  The King, his Shield, his Friend, the Oracle residing in Ravus, and Ignis, hand of the King, Love of the King and the soul of Ember.

  They found Ardyn upon the throne.

  “Off my chair jester, the King sits there,” Noct’s voice rang out.

  The Accursed rendered all but the King unconscious on the floor of the Throne Room.

  This fight was between the two Kings.

  Ignis woke when Ardyn died the first time.  He roused the others, nodding to Ravus.

  They met Noctis on the steps, walking tall behind him.

  Ignis on one side of the throne, Ravus on the other with Noct seated between them.  The King called to his ancestors, “Kings of Lucis, come to me,” he shouted as he wedged his sword in the floor before him.

  Ember felt Ignis’ pain as he watched Noct speared by the weapons of each King or Queen.  Ravus and Ignis held him steady as he waited for Regis’ Ghost to complete the ritual.

  As Regis’ sword pierced Noctis’ chest, Ignis sobbed uncontrollably, stroking Noct’s face.

  “I will be here, I will not leave you,” Ignis whispered into Noct’s ear.

  In the ether, five souls joined Noctis as he faced Ardyn.  Regis, Ravus, Gladiolus, Prompto and Ignis.

  A sixth wound her way around the Accursed.  Noctis knelt, the five men on either side knelt and bowed their heads.  Ravus’ sister, Lunafreya bent her head and a golden glow engulfed her and Ardyn as she began her healing.  Ravus stepped forward and lent her his own strength, entwining his hand with his sister’s.

  Ember watched another ending, seeing through Ignis’ eyes as weapon after weapon pierced the Accursed, shattering him into pieces.

  “Now!” Ravus shouted.

  In the Throne Room Ignis wrenched the sword from Noct’s chest, throwing it across the room to clatter to the floor in the silence.  Gladiolus eased Noct to the floor, Ignis cradling his head.  Ravus knelt beside the King, Prompto holding him steady.

  Ravus bent his head, holding Noct’s hand in his, closing his eyes as he chanted softly.

  The last of Ravus’ borrowed power flowed into the King, his body glowing as Ravus slumped back against Prompto.

  Ignis pressed his forehead to Noct’s.  “Please, my love.”

  The wound in the King’s chest closed and Noctis opened his eyes.  The first thing he saw was the green eyes of Ignis, tears flowing down his cheeks.

  “And they all lived happily ever after,” Noctis said, closing the book softly.  He stroked the hair of his son, thinking him asleep.

  “What happened to Ember, Dad?”  His son’s sleepy voice brought a smile to his lips.

  “Ahh, Little Ember…” Noct said, glancing up to where his husband leaned against the doorframe, green eyes bright in the darkness.  “He lived happily ever after too.”

  Ignis held out his hand for Noct to take as they let their son slip into slumber.  They settled together on the balcony, looking up at the stars, fingers laced, Noct resting his head on Ignis’ shoulder.

  Noct glanced up at Ignis, eyes reflecting the stars, “Is Ember happy, Speccy?”

  Ignis grinned, holding out his free hand to conjure a small flame in his palm.  He studied it for a moment, then quenched it by closing his hand, feeling the warmth of Ember threading through his soul.

  “Yes, he is, very happy, my love.”

 

 

 

 

   


End file.
